Page 47 of Papa's Bébé
Maya reached out and shook it.
Yep. There went that jealous beast. It rose up inside him, demanding to be set free.
They’re just shaking hands.
You can’t be jealous of that. She’s not yours. You don’t even know her.
“I own Callahan Security. Your bodyguard is going to be Matthieu. Is that a problem?”
There was a cold note to Ink’s voice and he saw that she heard it. Her chin tilted up and he waited to see what she was about to say.
“No problem except that I don’t need a bodyguard. Apparently it would cost a lot of money and I wouldn’t want that. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“You won’t be fine on your own,” Matthieu told her firmly. He wasn’t going to put up with this sort of nonsense from her. There was no way he would leave her on her own.
She’d obviously gone to Callahan Security seeking help.
And now she was getting it.
Whether she wanted it or not.
For some reason, she didn’t seem to want him as her bodyguard. But frankly, he didn’t care. She’d get used to him. Matthieu wasn’t quite sure what the problem was. She seemed to be shy around him? Unsure?
It was intriguing and so different from the Maya that she seemed to give other people.
“These threats are real, we’ve seen them,” Matthieu added. “We also saw footage of a vehicle attempting to run your father’s car off the road.”
It had been a stolen vehicle, and the footage had come from street cameras. Still, Ink had asked Brody to look over it and see if he could find anything that the cops might have missed.
“Matthieu is right. The threats mention you by name. Have you not seen them?” Ink asked.
“No, maybe I should,” she said.
“There is no need for Maya to see them,” her father said. “They will just upset her. And she should take my word that they are serious and should be treated that way.” His face was growing red, his forehead sweaty.
His wife stepped up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You are upsetting your father and it’s not good for his health.”
Chagrin and regret filled Maya’s face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you, Dad. It’s just . . . this doesn’t seem real.”
“Well, it is,” one of the other men replied. “So stop playing around and wasting all of our time with your dramatics, Maya.”
“Robert,” Mrs. Monsoon said in a quiet voice.
Robert. He was one of her two sons. All of her sons had been cops when she married Martin Monsoon.
Interesting how they’d all moved to Billings and then two of them had become detectives. Sounded fishy to him.
“I don’t mean to do that,” Maya said quietly. “I just . . .” Her gaze went to him and she fell silent. Then she dragged it away again. “I just don’t think a bodyguard is necessary. I don’t want you to waste that money.”
Merde.
He had to fight against grasping hold of her chin and turning her face toward his. Against telling her that he would decide what was necessary.
Easy.
She’s not yours.
And you’re not this person. You’re not a caveman like Ink and the others.
